《The God of Summer Storms》Prosper
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Year 25-1
Life was a game of cautious steps. From birth, we were all trying to make the right decisions. Decisions to keep us safe. Decisions to move us along. Decisions to keep us from being on the wrong end of a blade. We took one cautious step after another and prayed not to fall through, but life was long. Life was dreadfully long. Eventually, we all made a misstep. Even those of us who never stepped wrongly could always find they spent their entire life moving in the wrong direction.
I couldn't say for sure if deciding to help Tucker was a mistake or the best decision I ever made. Regardless, I decided to keep our paths together for longer than expected.
"Wake up," a voice pulled me from my dreams.
It only took two cycles. Two years.
That's how long it took to live freely. That is how long it took to truly become partners. Lying beside me, Tucker's body kept me warm until I sat up to address the satyr who so rudely interrupted my sleep.
"Penn, if you've started another fire, I'll have your ass on a pike," I said through my morning grog and fog.
When I decided to help Tucker, I never imagined it would lead me to a life in The Enchanted Forest with mythical creatures as our neighbors. Our bed was under the roof of hollowed trees. Our doors were vines, if not to say nonexistent. But in that place, fear of terror that came at night was irrational. I let Tucker change me in many ways, but I missed doors. I missed privacy. Penn and the other inhabitants of the forests refused to learn the luxury of privacy. At times I felt I changed more than anyone else was willing, but for all I had, I couldn't complain. Though I often complained.
Like an oasis, Tucker made the frustration worth time.
We made it to the East, but not as hunters. We were liberators. Still, a life lived was a life with struggle, both big and small.
"It is a fire, but not mine," Penn answered.
I gathered my pants, boots, and sword. While I dressed myself, Tucker slept, still at peace.
"Then who?" I questioned.
Penn and I stepped outside, and the forest was ablaze. What should have been green and blue was red and black. Smoke hid the distance, but there was no doubt in my mind.
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We were under attack.
In the thick of dark clouds, I heard voices whaling all around me. Bodies fell, and swords clashed. It was a struggle to see anything as the flames grew to be ravenous. Who was after us? Who meant to harm creatures of peace? As I drew my sword, an answer came charging my way. Straight from the smoke, on horseback and covered in armor, a soldier of the King's reign knocked me on my ass.
"Tucker!" I yelled as I picked myself up from the dirt to take my stance with Penn behind me.
"Drake," Penn called, clinging to my arm while I readied myself for the soldier climbing off his horse to face me.
"Tucker," I yelled again.
A single soldier was a fight I could win, but as I stood with my home behind my back, many figures stepped into view. We were surrounded. Shrieks of death continued to paint the air, and I knew we were done.
"Tucker," I called again.
"Yes," Tucker answered finally.
He stepped out of our home nude as the morning light and with a lack of concern that one should have carried in our predicament. He glanced around us, and while I continued to hold our ground, he took to a position in front of me. Why would he put himself at the center of a death circle?
"Tucker?!" Penn and I both exclaimed until my partner raised a hand.
Rain began to fall and fires smoldered to a halt. While Tucker showed off, as usual, a soldier lunged at him. I stepped in to block a slash that might have taken Tucker's hands. With the smoke clearing, the sun brought light enough to see corpses littered around us, but they were not our allies. Soldiers, a countless number of them, were dead. They were defeated by those I called friends. Fairies, elves, Satyrs, and Tucker stood while the King's men laid at our feat disemboweled. Those who I believed had us cornered were in fact outnumbered.
With the fire dead, Tucker returned to our treehouse, and I lowered my weapon before taking a breath and following him. Outside our door of vines, voices of men became too loud to ignore. Then they were snuffed out by creatures, many of which didn't need weapons to kill.
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After the battle was truly done, I spoke.
"This is the third attack in 2 months," I said while I watched Tucker dress himself in his usual rags and his perfect blue hooded cloak.
"I'm aware," he answered.
"You don't seem worried," I said.
He never seemed worried. Truth be told, it was one of his better qualities, especially compared to my more temperamental nature in the past.
"No one was hurt," he debated while finally clothed.
"But their homes. We can rebuild a hundred times, but each time it gets harder because we lose more," I argued while crossing our small space to hold his shoulders.
"What would you have us do?"
"You know what I would do," I said.
"We would never win a war," he said.
I held him firmly while I gazed into his smoking eyes. He was always right, but I hated having to admit it. Though, it helped that he never threw salt.
"We could. I believe in us," I added, finally releasing him so that I might dawn my shirt I noticed at our feet.
"We are not King's," he said.
"But we could be. We could be better than Kings."
"That is what we are, is it not?"
"Not if we don't protect our people," I continued to argue.
Outside our door, I could hear our friends already moving the dead. We came to that place to be free of the King's reach, but how could we ignore his arm growing longer?
"Facing a nation will not protect; it will endanger," Tucker said while stepping out of our Treehouse.
I followed behind him.
With our house resting at the top of a hill, the destruction of our morning was clear. None of ours might have died, but how many were injured? How many lost their treasures? How many would hold fear in their heart deeper than before? Tucker, though his ideas were good, they may not have been realistic at all times.
"We're already in danger," I said, gesturing to a house caving in on itself while we spoke.
He noticed it. I knew he did, but I couldn't understand what he saw.
"Penn and the others will need help," Tucker said.
Was he deflecting, or did he agree with me?
"What will you do today?" I asked, taking a breath to let the conversation keep from becoming an argument.
"Look for greater protection," he said with a smile.
"So you'll stare into nothing for half the day again," I joked.
"Perhaps," he answered.
Maybe I was blind to reality. Since the birth of our collective, there was never a loss of life close to us. Creatures born of magic were capable of protecting themselves, especially when working together. And Tucker... Tucker was Tucker. Perhaps I, the only boy wielding a sword, had fear because I felt alone.
"I don't understand your power. If you haven't found anything yet, what would make today any different," I asked.
"To earn the gifts of a Seer, I made a Vow," he began to explain.
"To never kill another person, or claim the souls of weaker life, I know."
"That Vow was made to a God of wisdom and guidance. The longer I keep my Vow, the stronger she makes me," he added.
All mages made Vows to Gods. The Vow and the God determined what gifts were granted. Often the more significant the Vow, the greater the power. And only some magical creatures could use magic without making a Vow. I understood that much without using magic myself.
"Meaning?" I pressed for Tucker to continue his line because I couldn't see the end of it.
"What I could not see yesterday may be clear today," he finished.
It should have been obvious, but how his abilities progressed were often so unpredictable. One day he could open locked doors, another he could conjure spirits. The gifts of a Seer were tremendous, and many, with Tucker's only limitation being lethality.
"You want to do more, but you do plenty," he said, resting a hand on my shoulder.
"Not enough. We're supposed to be their leaders, but you are the one they would give a crown. My value, my only real value is in a fight. I feel I need to fight," I debated perhaps with myself.
"You fought to get us here; with that, you have done enough," Tucker added, but I looked away.
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affection - quackityhq
af·fec·tion/əˈfekSH(ə)n/noun1.a gentle feeling of fondness or liking.
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